


Shards

by goldtoashes, heirsofbrokenlegacies (jarofhearts)



Series: Discord [8]
Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Angband, First Age, Humiliation, M/M, Melkor is a sadist, Melkor’s growing madness and paranoia, Mind Rape, Possessive Melkor, Rape, Violence, and Mairon does not enjoy it, poor mairon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-26
Updated: 2019-12-26
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:00:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21977710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goldtoashes/pseuds/goldtoashes, https://archiveofourown.org/users/jarofhearts/pseuds/heirsofbrokenlegacies
Summary: As the siege of Angband continues, Melkor's paranoia grows. It doesn't even stop when it comes to his lieutenant, and Mairon suffers the consequences.
Relationships: Morgoth Bauglir | Melkor/Sauron | Mairon
Series: Discord [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1537228
Comments: 2
Kudos: 26





	Shards

**Author's Note:**

> Just one quick little note: You know the drill, please heed the tags. This gets very dark very fast. We do hope you can appreciate the story anyway, as Mairon's low point.

“What are you doing?”

He hadn’t exactly bothered masking his steps, though even if he had, his approaching presence was impossible to miss. Not as much because of the raw power that always seemed to emanate from him - it had before his capture at least - but because of the brightly shining jewels resting in his crown, their light preceding him wherever he went.

“Just some experiments, my Lord,” you replied, your attention still focussed on the contents of the small vial which foamed and heated up as the liquid met the metal. _Interesting._ Carefully, you put the vial into its socket and took a note, before you finally raised your eyes and came over to the other side of your desk. “How may I be of service?”

“Do you have nothing better to do than your experiments?” He sounded irritable, impatient, and approached to have a brief look at the tools on your desk. He was not truly interested, you could see. “I heard you were planning to send a patrol through Ered Engrin.”

“The experiments are about a new alloy for our armory, my Lord,” you explained patiently, even without being asked. “I am tired of Noldor arrows piercing right through the steel. What about the patrol?”

He was watching you now, the jewels’ light mirroring in his dark eyes as though they were glowing from within. “What is its purpose? What are you trying to achieve?”

You had to suppress a sigh, wondering where this was going again.

“They are to scout Dorthonion for any strongholds and lookouts of the enemy. I still believe if we ever want to break this siege, it might be the best place to strike, but I intend to make sure that next time, we are far better prepared.”

You could feel the air around him crackling with tension, his temper flaring.

“ _You intend_ ,” he repeated, the words all but a hiss as he advanced on you, towering. “But you do not see any need to inform me of those plans of yours, do you?”

Of course you hadn’t, you had wanted to get something _done_ , after all.

He had acted more paranoid, more irrational since returning from Aman. The captivity, the betrayal of Ungoliant, and, most of all, those damn jewels that had hurled you straight into a war had certainly left their marks on him. The arrival of Fingolfin’s host, Maitimo’s escape, the crushing defeat your armies had suffered at the Dagor Aglareb and the following siege had done nothing to improve the situation either. Lately, your Master had been driving you as well as the rest of his generals up the walls with his unpredictability and his erratic urge to control everything. How he was acting now, however, was unusual even for him, and you sensed that something was amiss that you were not yet aware of.

”My Lord,” you thus said in your most appeasing voice, “I always saw it as part of my duties to provide intelligence for you. Given your many responsibilities, I did not assume you wished to be informed about every single measure that I take. But of course I can provide you with more reports, if that is what you’d like.” 

Unfortunately, your placating voice had the exact opposite effect to the one you had been aiming for.

“I don't need your fanciful words!” he all but exploded, his voice filling your study like thunder. You flinched and instinctively tried to take a step back, but the desk behind you prevented you from doing so. “My return, _this siege_ has been very inconvenient for you, has it not? Tell me, _Admirable_ : How far are you willing to go to escape it?”

“I really don’t understand, my Lord,” you answered very slowly, your gaze lowered. “Will you tell me what I have done to displease you?” 

The better question would probably be _who made you think that I did._ The image of Tevildo’s smug smile at the end of the last council meeting immediately came to your mind. Yet you had no time to contemplate this, as his hand moved lightning fast, snatching your jaw and tipping your head up so you were forced to look at him.

The Silmarils burned almost blindingly above his brow.

“I don't expect you to have lost your wits all of a sudden, so I'm sure you understand perfectly well,” he hissed, eyes searching yours with spearing intent. “Have you acted increasingly without conferring with me because you have plans of your own? Because you think you know better? Careful, my fair one, I have had cause to ask this once before. Do you remember?”

Of course you did, and you had no interest in repeating the experience, the reminder still sufficient to send an unpleasant shiver down your spine. That you still had no idea what exactly upset him did not help either.

“I swear to you, I have never acted against your best interest, nor have I betrayed you in any way,” you replied firmly, “although I could think of several others who envy my position who might love to tell you that I have done just that.”

“Couldn't you just.” He didn't sound surprised at all, though at least he didn't sound _more_ aggravated either. For a moment he just stared at you, looming in his huge form, before he finally spoke again. “Then I assume you have no qualms about proving your fancy words.”

“Certainly, my Lord. If you give me a name, I’ll make sure that creature is happy to confess its pathetic lies to you in no time.”

“ _Pathetic_.” A bark of a laugh escaped him, sounding more unstable than it ever had, the hold of his fingers tightening painfully on your chin. “No, my beautiful little Maia. Open your mind to me.”

You had feared that this was what he was aiming for, but you were by no means willing to follow his request right away.

“Why? Why would you ask that of me?”

“Because I won't tolerate subordinates who conspire behind my back and make pacts with my enemies to steal from me.” He growled the words more than he said them, a furious rage burning behind his words, in his black eyes.

You blinked, for a moment more startled than anything else, and couldn’t help but recall Maitimo’s words, a taunting echo in the back of your mind.

_He’s getting paranoid, is he not? Afraid that someone will take them away from him again. And it will grow worse and worse in time… You will see._

“Are you suggesting that I planned to steal the _Silmarils_ ?” The idea felt so entirely absurd that you could not suppress a short, disbelieving laugh. “ _What?_ ”

Before you even knew what was happening, your head was ringing from a slap that threw it to the side, hard enough that you barely managed to keep yourself from stumbling.

“Do not. _Ever_. Laugh in my face.”

You gritted your teeth, the indignity stinging even more than your burning cheek. “Forgive me, my Lord. But… whoever brought this up, you must _know_ it is a preposterous allegation. A pact with your enemies? They hate me as much as they hate you, so do you really think I would be _this_ stupid?”

“I think you put too much stake into your own cleverness,” he returned without missing a beat, his face still clouded over with a dark, simmering, suspicious anger. “And I will know once you do as I say. Do I need to ask again?”

Despite his words, you tried once more to avoid the inevitable. “Master, you know me. You know I have been nothing but loyal to you. I rebuilt your fortress from ruins, I did not hesitate for an instant to hand it back to you when you returned, I have been faithfully serving you in this war as well as all your other endeavours. Is it too much to ask that you trust my word _just once?_ ”

A snarl of disgust was your reply at first, his hand threading into your hair in a tight hold that craned your neck.

“One more word and you will be crawling on your knees _begging_ to give me _everything you are_.”

You were not sure you would not end up like that either way, but there was no point in defying him any further. And so you finally gave in and lowered the barricades around your own mind, knowing full well that even though he was mistaken about what you had done, he would not like what he’d find there either.

He was there in an instant, poking and prodding, blinding pain instantly spreading through your head. He rifled through your mind like a storm, with no care to the state he left you in, in his search for what he wanted to know. You clenched your teeth so hard that your jaw hurt from it, not willing to give a sound. It was idle pride, though, because you knew he could just sense the pain he was causing you. And of course all the anger and frustration you felt because of him, everything you _shouldn’t_ be thinking about right now was coming right up, blending with the pain and the feeling of humiliation to a seething feeling of rage. 

_Are you almost done? Sure there is no hidden conspiracy plan in some remote corner of my mind?_

For a moment you sensed something like surprise before the wild anger was back.

 _You insolent little brat._ A growl, vibrating in the very depths of your being. _Do you expect this to be enough? That you shy away from actively plotting against me?_

 _And what, pray tell, did_ ** _you_** _expect?_ The rational part of your mind reminded you that this was going to hurt. But you were far too consumed by anger right now to back down, and it was going to hurt _anyway,_ so you wouldn’t cower until he made you. _That you would get my utter devotion for meeting me with nothing but distrust and scorn? You once promised me a place at your side, to join you in all your works. But I cannot remember the part where I agreed to be your plaything that you can abuse to your liking._

There was silence for a moment, and then he laughed, a great and terrible sound that could make continents tremble.

 _Everything you are, you owe to me._ He was still right there inside your mind, his voice filling you from the inside, consuming and inescapable. His hand left your hair and instead hooked into the collar of your robe, ripping it with one forceful tear. _What do you think you'd be without the power I gave you? All I have to do is take that away and you come begging on your knees to have just a fraction of it returned to you._

You glared at him because of course he was right - and worse, he knew that he was. _And wouldn’t you just love to see me like that. Wasn’t that why you made me crave that power in the first place?_

 _You_ ** _came_** _to me for that power. Betrayed your old master for it._ He sneered and even though there was less wild anger and madness in his eyes now, you did not like the look he gave you any better. There was something dark and utterly cruel in there, sending a cold shiver down your spine.

Another harsh tug of his hand, and your robe ripped apart entirely, shreds of fabric slipping from your form.

 _And you would be nothing without me._ His hand closed around your throat, pushed you back onto your desk, uncaring of everything else on it. Glass shattered, the shards biting into your unprotected skin. _What do you think you would do? Go crawling to the Valar? Do you think they'd still take you back?_ **_You're mine._ **

The words resonated deep within your bones, within every fibre of your being. You hissed in defiance, struggling against his presence in your mind, against the hand holding you down, trying to push him away from you, out of you.

You might have as well tried to move a mountain. He only tightened his hold, eyes blazing above you.

He used to be beautiful in a dark, overwhelming way, you thought detachedly. Now his hands were burnt black and Ungoliant's attempt to devour him had left his skin discoloured in some places by her poisonous webs.

 _You think struggling will help? You gave yourself up to me, everything you are. Do you remember what you offered me?_ His hand that wasn't holding you down by the throat reached for your face, a rough distortion of a caress trailing down its side. **_Anything._** _Do you remember what you swore to me? You pledged yourself, your loyalty, your creation to me. To obey me and seek no glory for yourself. By the very foundations of Arda you swore._ Another sneer crossed his face, full of loathing this time. _So much for your oath. You gave it all to me. Your powers, your thoughts, your gifts, your body, your mind. There is nothing you can withhold from me._

 _Oh, but there is_ **_something._ **

Yes, you still vividly remembered the day you had come to him, when you had knelt before him for the first time. You remembered how you had admired him then, that glorious might he had wielded, the terrible and beautiful creations he could raise just by the power of his mind. The awe and pride you had felt that he would choose you above all others. And when you had said _I’m yours_ , you had meant it. 

But this had been back then. Before his captivity, before the Silmarils, before you had fully understood that all he eventually aimed for was to destroy, not to create. These days, all that he inspired in you were feelings of disappointment, fear and frustration, your adoration, your devotion having faded to a mere shadow over time.

 _And you hate the thought, don’t you? That no matter what you do, no matter how much you torture me, that there is this one thing you want from me that you just_ **_cannot get back_ ** _._

For a moment, he only stared back at you. But then his lips curled in a twisted imitation of a smile.

 _How unlucky for you then, is it not -_ his strong arm knocked your knees apart and he forced his way between them - _that nevertheless, whatever I do, whatever I take from you, you will remain by my side. Because without me, that little craving of yours would drive you_ **_mad_** _._

“Fine, then take what you want,” you hissed out loud. _For whatever reasons you would settle for_ **_this_** _._

“Oh, you'll understand. Eventually.”

A shift in fabric and forms and he was inside your mind _and_ body, forceful in both - and it all hurt. Not equally, maybe - there was nothing that could ever be as bad as his invading presence right inside your mind. Yet it surprised you, how much it first took your breath away. Almost reflexively, you tried to detach your mind from the pain your body was in, shutting everything out and retreating from the here and now.

But right away, you felt yourself being dragged back, everything returning to sharp and clear focus. A bark of derisive laughter in your mind.

_Not this time, Fairest._

You clenched your teeth to prevent yourself from making any sound and glared at him. When he had tortured you centuries ago, you had felt terrorized but also prideful that you could take it. This time, all you felt was a seething, unfocussed wrath. Wrath that was directed at him, of course, but also at yourself. That he could just do this to you, make you suffer through this act that was for lower creatures but not for the likes of _you_ . That you could do nothing about it, because of course, he was right that you would not leave him, _could not leave him_ unless you relinquished your powers.

And he knew it, and that was maybe the worst of it all.

_Yes… you can still learn from me, no matter how much you despise me for it._

You did not know what felt more humiliating, his gloating or the stabbing pain each time he thrust into you, or knowing that you could escape neither. The glass shards under your back were cutting through your skin, drawing blood each time you were pressed against the polished surface.

 _Oh don’t pretend this is to_ **_teach_ ** _me._

“No.” He said it out loud this time, taunting almost, dark eyes on you unrelenting even while he moved. “But you'll learn from it anyway. This is _because I can_.” A dark smile flickered over his face. “And because you're right… I do like seeing you like this.”

“Be cursed,” you spat, which earned you a particularly harsh movement of his hips that hurt so badly that you grimaced and barely managed to choke down a painful groan.

But he knew the pain he caused you, always would while he had his hooks embedded as deeply in your mind as he did now. It was evident in the gleam in his eyes, in the satisfied curl of his mouth.

“Others have tried that before you.” But you could see that he was distracted, his fingers on your cheek in a mocking caress. “Ah… what a beautiful face you gave yourself…”

_And maybe I shouldn’t have. But I didn’t know back then how much you like breaking and destroying everything that is beautiful._

Your eyes fell shut, because you felt that you could not bear to look at his self-satisfied face or stand the piercing brightness of those cursed jewels in his crown one moment longer. Yet you still heard him laugh right there in your head, felt his hand on your chest. How long did these things last?

“I could do this many more times before it would destroy you, Fairest.”

The thought sent a cold, unpleasant shiver through your being and you blinked at him in disbelief. Knowing that your suffering served no purpose save his pleasure was bad - knowing that he might repeat this degrading act was worse, especially because it seemed to be completely beyond your control.

His eyes glinted when they found you looking back at him again, satisfaction swimming in them. His hips met yours once more, hard, painful despite the numbness that had started to spread through your body. He shuddered languorously and pulled away, not pausing before readjusting his robes.

Along with his body, you could feel him retreat from your mind.

“Keep at your experiments,” he said, giving you a long look, and turning away.

 _But how_ , you wondered idly, turning your head and looking at the shards of the vials glinting everywhere on your desk. _You have destroyed them too._

You knew that you needed to move, needed to clean up yourself and your study, needed to return to the multitude of your daily duties as if nothing had happened. You needed to find out who had denigrated you and make the culprit pay for what he had done to you. 

You needed to. Yet you felt you could not. 

To examine the marks he had left all over and within your body, to leave your study and return to being the dutiful, ever loyal Lieutenant of Angband, to look at him and see a hint of that dark satisfaction still in his eyes, not knowing if or when he might choose to claim your mind and body like that again… It just seemed to be too much for now. To just lie here for another moment, focus on the shattered glass scattered all over your desk was easier than everything else.

Much easier.

**Author's Note:**

> In our headcanon, Ainur as more spiritual than physical beings suffer less from physical pain and heal quickly. However, sexual desire does not come as naturally to them as it does to the Children. Thus, being one of the Maiar, Mairon is much more shocked and humiliated that Melkor will debase him in such a way than he is physically hurt.
> 
> Maedhros' prediction of Melkor's growing paranoia is featured in the previous part, [Contempt](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21838861)
> 
> Melkor's remark that he had reason to distrust Mairon before relates to the events featured in [Resistance](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21561658)


End file.
